


Prompts, dribbles and drabbles

by intolauren



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Best Friends, Cute, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Female Friendship, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Teasing, dribbles and drabbles, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2018-06-10 11:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6955660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intolauren/pseuds/intolauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This will be a collection of all the prompts etc I get on Tumblr so I'll update the tags/relationships as more ficlets get added. None of these will be smut; my smut collection is titled Shameless and you can find all those in my works. These will come from all over the place I guess so I'll try and add when in terms of season/timeline they're set (if I remember).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New puppy

**Author's Note:**

> This first prompt came at the perfect time because I just reached 1000 followers on Tumblr! And what better way to celebrate than with Olicity fluff! Thank you so much to everyone who follows me there :) 
> 
>  
> 
> Anonymous said:  
> I have another dialogue prompt (or just a normal prompt if you don’t want to do dialogue)…. Felicity sends Oliver out to buy groceries and he somehow comes back with a puppy!

“Felicity?”

“I’m in here!”

Just from the way he said her name, she could tell Oliver was nervous.

He poked his head around the bedroom door where she was sitting with her laptop, working.

“The store was out of eggs but I got everything else,” he smiled.

“I guess I won’t be baking any cakes tonight then,” she laughed, knowing fine well she would never be able to bake anything anyway.

“I’m _so_ glad,” Oliver teased.

There was uncertainty in his voice and Felicity could tell he was definitely nervous about something.

“C’mere and give me a hug. I missed you,”

“I was only gone for an hour,” he laughed softly, not budging from where he was standing. 

Felicity pouted and moved her laptop from her lap.

“Are you okay?”

“Um…”

“Did something happen? Are you okay?”

Standing up, Felicity rushed over to Oliver, worriedly.

“I’m fine, honestly. I just… I may have done something silly,”

He was still standing in the doorway, most of his body covered by the door, almost as if he was hiding something.

“Oliver… have you been texting my mom again?”

He laughed sheepishly and shook his head.

“I’m always texting your mom. She’s a great conversationalist. But that isn’t what’s happened today,”

“Then what is it? You’re freaking me out,”

“Okay, you have to promise you won’t get mad at me,”

“Oliver, I can’t promise that. You can be particularly infuriating sometimes,” she sighed, smiling.

She was teasing, but not really. And she knew he knew that.

“So I was just coming out of the store and um- there was this- I saw-” he cut himself off, at a loss for words and started nibbling his lip.

“Would you spit it out? You look and sound more nervous right now than you did when you put an engagement ring in the souffle and while it’s really adorable, you’re _really_ starting to freak me out,”

Oliver laughed at that which made her smile. She’d missed the signs at the time but now she knew he’d been planning to propose that night, it was painfully obvious thinking back. She’d never seen Oliver so nervous and the whole night he’d been fidgeting and twitching as they ate dinner and even now she still couldn’t believe she’d never had any idea what he’d been planning.

“Felicity… I accidentally got us a puppy,”

“You did _what?_ ”

“I got us a puppy. Accidentally,”

“Accidentally?! How do you accidentally get a puppy?!”

“I couldn’t help it! I left the grocery store and there was this old guy sitting out there with a box full of puppies and he was looking for people to adopt them and give them good homes and I only stopped for a second just to look at them but then I just couldn’t stop looking because they were all so cute and the guy asked if I wanted to hold one and I accidentally ended up adopting it,”

His sentence was rushed; he babbled seemingly without breathing so that when he finally finished speaking, he had to take a deep breath.

Sometimes Oliver reminded Felicity so deeply of herself lately and it never failed to make her heart warm. Now however, was not the time for sentimentalities.

“Did you even _think_ about whether we can look after a puppy? We both work long hours Oliver! I’m at the office all day and then we’re both in the bunker for most of the night! We’re hardly ever home! When are we supposed to have time to look after a puppy?”

“I figured the puppy could stay down there with us? Or your mom could look after her? Or Lyla? I’m sure she and your mom would love a little puppy to look after sometimes! She’d be a good companion for baby Sara too, I’m sure of it. I honestly did think about this before I got her; I would never have adopted her if I didn’t think we could keep her safe,”

Felicity softened a little at that. Oliver could be really and truly precious sometimes.

“She’s a girl?”

Oliver smiled at her question, and she could see the tiniest speck of relief leave his body.

“Yeah. The guy said he’s been calling her Peach, but we can rename her if you want?”

“I like Peach. Like Princess Peach, from the Mario video game,”

She knew she’d lost Oliver with the video game reference and she laughed at the temporary blank expression on his face.

“So you’re okay with this?” he asked, cautiously after a few seconds of her laughter.

“I’m still mad that you did this without telling me, but I’ll probably be less mad when I see how cute she is,” she smiled, her eyes warm, excitement slowly starting to overpower the anxiety she felt about suddenly becoming the owner of a puppy and the annoyance she felt that Oliver had done something so huge without so much as a text to tell her what he was up to.

“Well, she’s waiting outside to meet you,” he smiled.

“She’s already here?”

“Yeah, the guy wanted to get rid of the puppies straight away if he could so he handed me a little box, slipped Peach inside and told me to look after her,”

“Tell me you at least got his number so we can contact him if we need to!”

“Of course, Felicity. He gave me his email as well, don’t worry. We’re gonna have to go out and get supplies this afternoon but I couldn’t not bring her straight home to meet you,”

Oliver was so excited; Felicity could see his eyes gleaming with excitement.

She loved this man. She loved this man so much. 

This man had killed people, fought criminals for a living, spent time with the League of Assassins and had taken down Mirakuru soldiers yet here he was, an excited bundle of nerves over a puppy. A puppy he saw and simply couldn’t say no to taking home. There really weren’t words in any language to describe how much she loved him.

“Oliver?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you so much sometimes,”

“Just sometimes?” he teased, smiling.

“No, all the time,” she laughed. “Now, shut up and let me meet our new puppy,”


	2. Doctor Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said: Hi, can I ask a prompt? Felicity is now used to patching up Oliver after fights but now he is the one having to play doctor with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so imagine whilst reading this that Olicity never broke up and the stupid baby drama storyline never happened, okay?
> 
> I’m not 100% happy with this but I’ve stared at the same 3 pages since 10 o clock this morning so I inevitably had to just bite the bullet and accept that this is the best I can do today. I hope you enjoy it anyway! :)

“Are you okay? You’re acting funny,”

“I’m fine! Stop asking me if I’m okay,”

“Sorry, it’s just that we’ve been home an hour now and you’ve barely said anything which isn’t like you,”

“I know, but I’m fine, I’m just tired,”

Oliver knew she wasn’t fine; she was definitely not telling him something. But he also knew that she’d tell him eventually what was wrong, because that was how they worked. No amount of prying would make her open up, but she would open up willingly when she was ready to. That was a certain.

“We can head up to bed if you’re tired, you know? We don’t have to stay down here just for the sake of it. The streets look pretty quiet tonight,”

“We do this every night, Oliver. I like working down here. That’s not the problem,”

“So there _is_ a problem?”

Felicity sighed heavily, clearly exasperated, and then Oliver saw her wince. She immediately tried to hide her expression but quickly seemed to realise it was no use. He shot her a worried glance.

“Ughhhhh you’re not going to let me get away without telling you what’s wrong so I might as well just tell you, hadn’t I?”

Oliver smiled and leaned over to kiss her forehead.

“You had,”

“It’s just so dumb and stupid though. And after the day you’ve had you must be exhausted and I didn’t want you to worry about me,”

“I’m always worried about you, Felicity. It’s just something that happens when you love someone. But I’ll probably worry less if you tell me what’s wrong. And besides, you’ve had a rough day too. Today was hard on all of us,”

Today had actually been a lot harder on her than it had been on him, thinking about it. He was used to being chased by homicidal maniacs and Felicity was usually relatively safe behind her computer in the bunker. But after a normal morning at Palmer Tech, the afternoon had suddenly turned sour when a swarm of robot bees had enveloped the building. Oliver had only found out via the local news channel due to the bees frequencies interfering with any communication devices in the building, including cellphones and wi-fi. After their first encounter with the bees and their slightly neurotic leader, Brie Larvin, a year or so ago, Felicity would have had all the tools to take them down for the second time, had it not been for the significant lack of usable technology once the bees had interfered with both her computers and her phone and all similar devices in the building. Oliver and the team had eventually made it into the building and taken down Brie and the bees, but not before Brie had sent Felicity on a wild goose chase for several hours as she tried to capture her to steal the biochip out of Felicity’s spine. Felicity had been forced inside the air vents as the bees made it inside the building, and even had to use an explosive device to blow a hole in the wall to rescue some innocent board members who’d happened to get caught up in the events.

So in hindsight, the day had _definitely_ been harder on Felicity than it had been on him. 

Taking down Brie had been much the same as taking down any criminal for Oliver, besides the fact that it was his fiancee that she was in pursuit of, which lead to the mission being lead greatly more by his emotions than his head. Most of his missions were easy, because he had her voice in his ear guiding him, and as long as he was hearing her voice, he knew she was safe. Today had been the opposite of that. Not being able to contact her for hours whilst knowing she was in danger the entire time had been Oliver’s personal version of hell.

So Felicity was right, he _was_ exhausted. But perhaps not for the reasons she was thinking.

“I don’t even know what happened, I didn’t feel anything until afterwards when we were in the car coming home and I figured it was just a scratch so I checked in the mirror when we got back but I can’t really see anything because it’s on my back. But it just hurts. Kind of. Well not really but-”

“Felicity, just turn around and let me look, okay?” Oliver smiled, his eyes shining with amusement at her attempt to not make a big deal out of the situation.

She smiled softly back at him, a hint of guilt in her eyes that he silently chastised her for, and turned in her chair, lifting up her shirt so he could see. As she lifted it up she winced again, and Oliver could see that it had been bleeding quite heavily at some point and the material had stuck to it, forming a makeshift dressing, and it was only due to her shirt being black that neither of them had noticed the blood soaking through. The cut wasn’t too deep but was probably deep enough to scar and it was about the length of his thumb, right underneath her shoulder blade.

“How did you not feel this?!”

“Adrenaline, I guess? I probably did it climbing through the air vents because the metal in there isn’t exactly smooth in places. Hence why humans aren’t ideally supposed to climb through them,”

Oliver grabbed a dressing and some cotton balls from the medical supplies.

“Tell me if this hurts okay?”

“I will,”

She was lying. Oliver knew it would take being moments from death before Felicity admitted that she was in pain. It was simultaneously his favourite thing about her, and the most infuriating part of her personality.

He cleaned the wound with the cotton balls as quickly and as carefully as he could before covering it with the dressing. Felicity never flinched once, and it made Oliver chuckle because had the tables been turned, he would’ve been practically crying like a baby by now. He’d never tell her that that was just to get her attention though. He’d never let on to how much he loved to exaggerate how much pain he was in sometimes just because it usually meant more cuddles and kisses from her once she’d finished patching him up. He was a lot like her in that he’d never tell anyone how much he was hurting, both physically and emotionally, but when it came to Felicity, he just couldn’t help himself sometimes. Opening up to her just felt so good, especially after everything he’d come through to be in a position where letting someone in was actually something he wanted to do. But that was a lot to do with the kind of person Felicity was, and Oliver would always owe so much of his life to her for that.

“There,” he smiled, after sticking the last corner of the dressing onto her skin. “All done,”

Pulling her shirt back down, she smiled back. “Thank you, Doctor Queen,” 

“There will be no more climbing through air vents for awhile, unfortunately,”

“Damn. Just when I was thinking of making it my hobby,”

She was still smiling as she pressed her lips to his, thanking him with a kiss. Oliver pulled her into his arms and held her, careful not to catch the dressing on her back.

“Oliver?” she asked, after a minute or two of quiet.

“Mmm?”

“Does this mean I’ll have another scar?”

Laughing, Oliver hugged her tighter.

“It looks that way,”

“This story isn’t quite as heroic as my bullet wound story though is it?” she mused softly, a smile in her voice.

“No, but it’s definitely more heroic than your wisdom teeth story,” Oliver replied, pressing a kiss into her hair.


	3. Noisy neighbour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt was found on otp--prompts on Tumblr: Person A has just moved to a new house and Person B is the asshole who keeps mowing their lawn at 8 in the morning.
> 
> Anonymous said: do it. do the lawn mowing prompt. sweat soaked oliver under the morning sun and felicity in her pjs with bed hair *grabby hands*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally found and reblogged this prompt on Tumblr from @otp–prompts just as an "aw this would be so fun to write one day" kind of thing so I was super excited that someone actually wanted me to write it! :)

She’d forgiven him the first two mornings. 

The weather had been nice and if she’d been into gardening herself, she’d have probably been outside too.

But right now it was Sunday, it was overcast, and it was before 8 in the morning.

It definitely wasn’t helping that she was hungover. Or that she’d only gotten in and fallen asleep 4 hours ago.

But that was besides the point. No one needed to be mowing their lawn for the third day in a row. Especially not before 8 o'clock on a Sunday morning.

Felicity had only moved in a week ago and had been swamped with unpacking and work deadlines the entire time and so she hadn’t had time to familiarise herself with any of her neighbours. Other than peeking through the curtains two mornings before to see who was making a noise in their yard, she hadn’t had any contact with the outside world for a whole week.

From what she could make of her noisy neighbour, he was probably about her age, maybe a little older, he was tall and he was particularly fond of wandering around without a shirt on. Both times she’d sneaked a look outside he’d had his back to her either pushing his lawn mower towards the opposite end of the garden or been knelt down clearing some grass that was caught in the blades. She could see he had several tattoos on his back, two huge tribal ones and a couple of smaller ones she couldn’t quite make out the designs of. She hadn’t meant to ogle, but both times she’d definitely stared at him for longer than what qualified as a quick peek.

Sighing loudly, Felicity climbed out of bed and grabbed her sleep shorts and sweatshirt. Slipping them on and heading downstairs, she didn’t even bother to look in a mirror. She knew she looked like hell; she probably had some of last night’s makeup smudged on her face and her hair was most likely just the remnants of a bird’s nest, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to get out there and tell him to shut the hell up so she could go back to sleep again.

Rasping open the front door angrily, Felicity stepped out into the yard barefoot, the pavement cold under her feet. The lawn mower was still going next door and out here it was ten times louder and about a hundred times more irritating. She tried not to stomp like a petulant teenager as she approached the fence that separated her yard from his and peered over the top.

“Hey!” she yelled, her voice hoarse with sleep.

And probably also from all the singing she’d done at the karaoke bar at 3 this morning.

His back was to her again and he clearly hadn’t heard her.

“Hey, asshole!” she yelled louder, not even caring that she’d never met this man before yet she was already insulting him.

He must have heard her the second time though as a few seconds later he killed the lawn mower and turned around to face her.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” he asked, clearly amused, his expression smug.

“Yeah, I did actually. I called you an asshole,” she spat back, trying to keep her face straight and her eyes on his, no matter how hard they wanted to stray down to his body.

His very shirtless and clearly very well trained body.

He had even more tattoos on his chest and one of the most incredible six packs she’d ever seen. And she’d seen a lot of men at her local gym with abs like washboards. Not that she was ever looking for them, of course. She couldn’t help it if attractive men sometimes ended up in her line of sight as she ran on the treadmill, could she?

He was tanned too, and his arms were impressive to say the least. The ratio of his bicep was probably the same as her waist.

“Excuse me?” He raised his eyebrows, his face still smug.

As he spoke, her eyes snapped back up to his.

Dammit, she’d been staring.

“Is there really any need to be doing that at 8 in the goddamn morning?” she grunted, his arrogant expression already starting to grate on her nerves.

“I always mow my grass in the morning. It grows particularly quickly in the spring, you know? I have to stay on top of things,”

Felicity bit back the urge to make a comment about that. She was _sure_ he liked to stay on top of things.

“Well some of us are trying to sleep!”

“And _some of us_ were trying to sleep at 4 o'clock this morning when _some of us_ were causing a row outside!”

She didn’t know what to say to that so she bit her lip instead. She hadn’t realised she’d been making that much noise earlier. She knew saying goodbye to her friends after a night out could sometimes take hours of kisses and cuddles and impromptu singalongs by the front door, but last night in comparison to other nights had been relatively quiet.

“Well, I’m sorry. Honestly. But at least I don’t do that _every_ night. Unlike you who seems adamant on making a noise every single goddamn morning,”

He chuckled at that.

“Hey, it’s not my fault that you’re hungover and every sound is amplified right now,”

“I wasn’t hungover yesterday but you were still annoying,”

“I’ll tell you what, let’s negotiate a compromise,”

“What makes you think I would want to compromise with you?”

He was laughing now. At her. She knew she was acting like a brat and she couldn’t understand why. She honestly was not a rude person. And she couldn’t even blame it on the lack of sleep or hangover anymore. Because being out here in the cool, fresh air had already massively sobered her up. Maybe it was his face. His stupidly smug and stupidly beautiful face.

“Are you always this difficult?” he asked her, snapping her out of her internal monologue.

She felt her cheeks blush and she smiled bitterly at him. She automatically hated anyone who made her blush.

“No, so far it’s just you,”

“I’m flattered,” he winked.

_He actually winked._

Was he flirting with her?

“Don’t be,” she almost growled.

He laughed again and Felicity had to fight back the desire to throw something at him. Something heavy.

“Listen, at least tell me your name before we negotiate,” he smiled, his expression only slightly less arrogant now.

“I don’t care about negotiations, I just want to go back to sleep,”

He tilted his head, looking exasperated, and Felicity chuckled to herself at how puppy like the action was.

Deliberately brushing aside the fact that she’d just mentally compared him to a puppy she grinned.

“Okay, fine. Negotiate with me,”

Smiling, Oliver approached her on his side of the fence.

Despite herself, Felicity found herself smiling back.

“So. I’ll hold off mowing my lawn until at least 9-”

“10,” Felicity interrupted.

Oliver sighed, clearly amused.

“Until at least 10 then. And I’ll also pretend I didn’t see you checking me out two mornings in a row…” he paused then, the smug grin back on his face and Felicity was about to interrupt once more but he continued before she had the chance. “ _And_ I’ll even mow your lawn for you once a week, free of charge. _If_ … if you’ll go out to dinner with me tonight,”

“What makes you think I would _ever_ go on a date with you?”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything about a date. I said dinner,”

“But the implication of going out to dinner usually means going on a date,” Felicity replied, her tone sharp.

She wasn’t about to have him accuse her of wanting to go on a date when that was definitely what _he_ had been suggesting.

“But will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Go on a date with me?”

She pursed her lips into a straight line and rolled her eyes.

“Oh, c’mon. I can tell you liiiike me,” he teased, fluttering his eyelashes comically at her.

She made a noise of utter frustration and turned away, heading back towards her house.

“I’m going back to bed now,”

“So, I’ll pick you up at 8 then?”

“Fine! But make it 9. And I’m paying for myself. _And_ I’m only doing this because I don’t think your ego could handle it if I rejected you!” she yelled as she approached her door.

“I’m Oliver, by the way!” he yelled back, and she could tell from his voice that he was grinning again.

“You’re also really annoying,” Felicity mumbled to herself under her breath as she stepped inside and closed the door.

Once inside, she didn’t even bother going back up to bed. Instead, she stood in the kitchen waiting for her coffee machine to make her a coffee, wondering how the hell her morning had somehow ended in a date with perhaps the most frustrating person she’d ever met in her life.

_Most frustrating and frustratingly gorgeous, that is._


	4. Light up sneakers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "today's fun otp question is: which half of your otp wears actual light up sneakers in actual public" - @CammienRay on Twitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so my friend on Twitter posted [this tweet](https://twitter.com/CammienRay/status/744323916529709056) and it inspired me to write this little dialogue thing. 
> 
> Ps, I am getting around to working on the prompts I have in my ask right now, even though it’s been weeks, I promise!! It’s just taking longer because I’ve been pretty ill recently and it was my birthday too which included lots of social stuff which exhausted me. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! Thank you [CammienRay](https://twitter.com/CammienRay) for the inspiration!

“Are you alright?”

“Mhmm. I’m just tired,”

“Well then take a nap?” 

“I’m not that kind of tired, Oliver,” 

…

“Okay so you’re doing that eyebrow thing you do first thing in a morning before you’ve had your coffee. Are you _that_ kind of tired?” 

“Yes. I’m that kind of tired,” 

“Is this a hint to tell me you’d like a coffee?”

“Yeah, but a special kind of coffee. A coffee from that really tiny deli downtown that hardly anyone knows about. The deli that draws cartoon characters on top of the drink with chocolate powder. Those are the best,” 

“You realise we were just downtown an hour ago, right?” 

“I knooow,” 

“But you didn’t want coffee then?” 

“I didn’t,” 

…

“Don’t make that face,” 

“What face?” 

“That little pouty face you make when you want to woo me into your way of thinking. That face you made when I found out you’d been working with the team from Bali,” 

…

“You’re still making it, by the way,” 

…

“Okay fine, I’ll go grab you a coffee even though we just got home an hour ago from the exact place the deli is and even though it’s pouring with rain outside, on one condition,” 

“Anything. Name it,” 

“You have to come to,” 

“But it’s raaaaining,” 

“Which is why it would mean even more to me if you came,” 

…

“Uggggh. Now _you’re_ making a face,” 

“I am not making a face,” 

“You are! You’re doing the _‘please, Felicity’_ sad eyes face,” 

“That is so not what I’m doing,” 

“Whatever. _Fine._ I’ll come,” 

“Thank you,” 

…

“Felicity?” 

“Yeah?” 

“What are you doing?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, why are you putting on those shoes when we’re about to head out?”

“What?”

“We’re going downtown to grab coffee and you’re going to wear those?” 

“No, Oliver, I’m putting them on right now just to see if they still fit… Of course I’m wearing them!”

“Oh, you are, you’re wearing them. Okay,” 

“Is there a problem with that?” 

“No! No, I just… You know there will be people with cameras who want to take our pictures now we’re newly married, right?” 

“Right. I know. There have been people with cameras outside this very building for a week now,” 

“And you know a lot of people will see those pictures online?” 

“Yes, Oliver, I’m aware of how the internet works,” 

“And you’re still going to wear them?” 

“Of course I am!”

“But they’re… They’re light up sneakers!” 

“I know. Thea bought them for me for my birthday! I love them,” 

“I know you love them but-” 

“Oliver. A year ago I couldn’t walk. Do you know how hard that was for me? And now I can walk, I want to wear cool shoes that have a very specific light up function that is only accessible by _walking_ ,” 

“You’re breaking my heart here,” 

“Good,” 

…

“Fine. Wear the shoes. But don’t go thinking I didn’t notice that you played a very low blow of bringing up the time you couldn’t walk just to get me to feel bad for you. I noticed,” 

“I don’t know _what you’re talking about_ ,” 

 

“See? Nobody has noticed my shoes. You had nothing to worry about,” 

“That 5 year old girl back there seemed to notice them pretty well. And then that guy, who I’m assuming was her father, when he scoffed to himself after seeing what his kid was staring at,” 

“You just don’t know how to have fun, Oliver,” 

“I know how to have fun,” 

“Besides plotting the various ways you’d like to murder Malcolm Merlyn was he not Thea’s father, I mean,” 

“Hey, you enjoy doing that too,” 

 

“I just got a text from Thea. She says your shoes look awesome. She saw a picture on TMZ and noticed them right away,” 

“She’s right. They do look awesome. You should get a pair!” 

“I am not getting a pair, Felicity. And no amount of your pouty face is going to change that,” 

“We’ll see,” 

 

“Mmmmm, oh my _god_ this coffee is _so good_ ,” 

“I’m glad,” 

“Stop laughing. Just because you don’t appreciate coffee as much as I do, doesn’t mean to you get to laugh at my public displays of affection with it right now,” 

“Forgive me,”

“I do. Since you so graciously let me wear these shoes,” 

“You would have worn them anyway,” 

“I would. And I actually think they’re improving the experience I'm having with this coffee,” 

“And _I think_ those shoes are growing on me,” 

“Really? Why?” 

“They’re very obviously making you happy,” 

“Of course they are! Two things I love, shoes and technology, combined into one really awesome looking product is always going to make me happy,” 

“Exactly. So I guess I don’t really mind them that much anymore,” 

“Does that mean you’ll get a pair?!” 

“Nope. But it does mean I don’t particularly care whether or not you wear yours anymore,” 

“Really?” 

“That’s within reason. The first time you try to wear them to a gala or an executive dinner, I quit,” 

“It it was making me happy, I’m pretty sure you’d let me wear them anywhere, Oliver,” 

“Hmm. Probably,” 

“But I won’t. I promise I’ll always wear them within reason,” 

“Good,”


	5. Pokemon GO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue only. 
> 
> Oliver and Felicity cannot play Pokemon GO without heated competition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know no one plays Pokemon GO anymore (except me who is still obsessed) but I just wrote this in about 10 minutes on my lunch break because I couldn't stop thinking about who would be more competitive. Turns out they're pretty equal.

“I'm just going out.” 

 

“Where to? If you’re going downtown, could you pick me up a coffee pleaaaase?” 

 

“I'm not going that far. I'm just going… down to the corner.” 

 

“What for? You can see the corner from here. Or if there's anything you need me to check out I can just pull up the street cameras opposite and… wait. Oliver?” 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“What's so interesting about that corner?” 

 

“Nothing I just… wanted to stretch my legs?”

 

“Are you asking me that or telling me?”

 

“Telling you?” 

 

“You've been pacing the living room for the last 15 minutes. I think your legs are sufficiently stretched. So seriously, what's down on that corner that you don't want me to know about?” 

 

“Nothing, I swear.” 

 

“You swear? On what? Do you swear on the life of my computer that there's no rare Pokemon down there right now? And think very carefully before you answer because you know I hate lying and you also know that I love this computer almost more than I love you and if anything happened to it I would blame you. Forever.”

 

“I don't need to lie. I know that you could just open the app and look for yourself.” 

 

“That's true. But I want to see if you've grown, Oliver. You've lied four times just this week about there being no Pokémon besides Rattatas and Pidgeys outside. When we got back together we made a pact to never lie to each other again, remember?” 

 

“I didn't think the lying included a stupid little app about pocket monsters that's supposed to be fun…” 

 

“I wish I'd never taught you how to play this _stupid little app_. If I'd known it was going to turn you into a-”

 

“Don't guilt trip me into telling you there's a Dragonair down there. Please.” 

 

“So there _is_ a rare Pokémon on that corner!” 

 

“I didn't know it was rare…”

 

“Shut up. Don't think I didn't see you googling all the names of the rare Pokemon the other night and saving them to your ridiculous photographic memory when you were pretending to watch the movie I so lovingly picked out for us both to watch.” 

 

“I _was_ watching the movie!” 

 

“Tell me two things that happened.” 

 

“There were… a bunch of kids. In a high school. In detention?” 

 

“Nice guess.” 

 

“It wasn't a guess it was- hey, what are you doing? Why isn't my app working?” 

 

“Probably the server is down again.” 

 

“Just like it was down last week when there was a Snorlax outside the deli a few blocks away for the first time ever?” 

 

“Yeah. What a strange coincidence.” 

 

“Yeah, it is strange. Like how my app crashed when we were both trying to catch the Charmander that appeared outside my office when you came over with lunch?” 

 

“Another strange coincidence.” 

 

“I can see you typing away under the desk, by the way. Probably using your freakishly smart ninja hacking skills to freeze my phone or something.” 

 

“I can't believe you'd accuse me of doing such a thing.” 

 

“It's just a game, Felicity.” 

 

“Sure. Just a game.” 

 

***

 

"I'm just going out." 

 

"Okay. Where? Because dinner is almost ready and I made your favourite."

 

"Yeah, I'll be back in time. I'm just going for a quick walk."

 

"If you won't be long, I can come with you if you want? Dinner just needs another 15 minutes in the oven."

 

"No, it's okay. I just wanted to get outside for some fresh air. I won't be long."

 

"Felicity...? Are you alright? You look... suspicious." 

 

"I'm fine! I don't look suspicious... do I? I don't think I do."

 

"There's a Pikachu out there, isn't there?"

 

"Nope!! Just because you're obsessed with going out for little walks to play Pokemon GO, doesn't mean I am. It's just a game, Oliver." 

 

"So if I open my app now, I won't find a Pikachu outside? The Pikachu we've both been trying to catch for days?" 

 

"Nooo..."

 

"But you never just go for walks. You're just like me. The only walks you go on are Pokémon walks." 

 

"That’s not true. I went for a walk yesterday and I didn't even take my phone!"

 

“Going downstairs to pick up pizza from the lobby of the building does not count as going for a walk.” 

“...” 

"Fe-li-ci-ty."

 

"Okay _fine_ there's a Pikachu across the street. I won't be long!"

 

"Wait, come back!" 

 

"Sorry, Oliver! That Pikachu is mine! It only has 60 seconds left on it before it disappears and I swear I'll make your app crash if you chase me."

 

"You wouldn't." 

 

"You know I would." 

 

“Yeah, actually. I know you would. You already have.” 

 

“You have no proof of that whatsoever.”

 

"...I hate this stupid game." 

 

"Good. Then you won't mind if I just run and grab that Pikachu then! No? Okay, be right back!"

 

"You're so annoying."

 

"I love you too, honey!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please leave me a comment! I find it super difficult to continue writing without encouragement from others and so every single comment means the absolute world to me!
> 
> Feel free to leave any prompts or questions for me on Tumblr! My ask is right [HERE](http://wetsuiton.tumblr.com/ask) and I'm on there everyday :)


	6. 5x20 missing scene - "I'll get the wine,"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'll get the wine,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a 500 word missing scene fic but it took on a mind of its own once I started writing and ended up making me cry a bit. 
> 
> This is just my take on what happened after Felicity went to get the wine.

_“I'll get the wine,”_

It's been months since she said those words. To Oliver, at least. She's pretty sure she says them to herself several nights a week nowadays. And yeah, some people might call that a drinking problem but Felicity likes to call it surviving. Which definitely sounds like a drinking problem. But it's the price she pays for the life she leads. 

She’s just opening the door to the garage when she realises her stomach feels funny. Nervous. Her stomach feels nervous. The conversation she just had with Curtis has really mixed up her insides and now all of a sudden she's getting wine and is about to share Chinese food with Oliver. Like a date. Like they used to do at least once a week during those blissful months after they returned from Ivy Town. 

She feels her cheeks warm of their own accord and has to fight back a giggle. She hasn't even touched the wine yet but it's like her body knows she's about to. For a moment she forgets that they aren't the Oliver and Felicity who returned from Ivy Town and when she remembers, the moment is harrowing. She has to close her eyes and take a deep breath whilst the memories of their summer disappear back into the back of her mind where she's been keeping them safely locked away for the last few months. She can't allow herself to think about them anymore. She won't. Because those memories just feel like a lie to her now. 

Opening her eyes again, she heads over to the shelf where they keep the wine. She can't remember whether it was her idea or Oliver’s that they keep a stockpile of it down here. It was probably hers though. Wine drunk Felicity is so much more fun than sober Felicity. And wine drunk Oliver Queen is so much more yummy than sober Oliver Queen. 

There it is. There's that nervous flutter in her stomach again. 

_“You know what he can't change?”_

_“What?”_

_“The way he looks at you.”_

She trusts Curtis’ perspective ninety-nine percent of the time and she's pretty sure this time isn't in the one percent. Because she catches Oliver gazing all the time. She tries not to think too much about it because she isn't allowed to, she won't allow herself to think like that, but she can't help the warmth that rushes through her body every time she turns around and sees him watching her with a soft smile on his face. She hates her body for still reacting so strongly to him after everything that happened, but she can't blame it. And she's not sure but maybe she does some gazing of her own sometimes too. Less often, she's sure of _that_ , because she has her feelings in check and she doesn't let herself forget. Except for those times when she does. 

Momentarily she forgets what she came down here for. 

_Wine._

She can't remember why she was so quick to suggest it as soon as Curtis left now she's down here because the nervous fluttering in her stomach is really not going to mix well with alcohol. But she picks two bottles of their favourite red from the shelf anyway because there isn't a force of nature on earth that can stop her hands from reaching out for it now. She remembers this red. She remembers Oliver promising to buy her a bottle if she found out intel about bad guys all those years ago. She can't even remember the name of the guy, or maybe it was a girl, but she remembers how he never did buy her the wine. She remembers forgetting all about it until one night during their trip when Oliver presented her with a bottle during dinner in a softly lit, empty restaurant by the ocean. The restaurant had been empty because it was midnight but their bodies were still on US time and she’d tipped the barman a very generous tip after he’d told them he’d cook up something special for them even though the kitchen was closed. She remembers the gleam in their waiters’ eye as he watched them walk over to their table hand in hand. She remembers how Oliver smiled and apologised for not getting the wine for her sooner and she remembers being so touched and happy and excited that she didn't even wait for him to grab a glass before she popped the cork and took a drink straight from the bottle, Oliver’s eyes shining with laughter as he watched her from across the table.

She gulps, wondering if she should open the bottle and do the same right now. She wonders too if Oliver would react the same if she did and then realises that of course he would. He probably wouldn't lean over and kiss her to get a taste of the wine for himself though. She wonders if she’d mind if he did. 

On her way back out she catches her reflection in the mirror and for a second she doesn't quite realise that it's her. There's a light in her eyes that she hasn't seen for awhile. She fiddles with her ponytail and then decides to take her hair down. And then once her hair is down she decides that she’d look better if she removed her glasses too; the frames are giving her a headache today anyway. At least, that's what she tells herself. She's just putting in her second contact lense when she remembers that she keeps a curling wand in the bathroom. She doesn't let herself wonder until the last curl whether or not Oliver will notice. Maybe it's because she knows that he will. 

She doesn't dwell on why she's doing her hair and fixing her makeup and leaving her glasses in her purse until it's too late. Until she's crossing the room with the wine bottles in her hand and smiling at how Oliver’s arranged their food on one of the training mats. He has his back to her and she can tell he's deep in thought just by the way he's standing. She can tell he's nervous too. Her stomach flutters again. 

“I found the wine,” she says, and she doesn't quite recognise her voice when she does. 

Oliver turns and it only takes a second for his shoulders to relax and a soft smile to form on his lips. He takes the wine from her, smiling a little more when he sees the label and she watches the memory behind his eyes from their ocean-side dinner all those months ago. He looks up from the bottle, meets her eyes and tilts his head, a familiar, almost knowing expression crossing his face. 

“I thought you'd got lost looking for this,” he holds up one of the bottles and leans down to pick up two glasses. “I thought you weren't coming back. What took you so long?” 

“Oh, I was just… nothing. Was I long?” She's glad when he looks down again to pour the wine because she's starting to feel sort of dizzy from all the energy in the air that she's sure wasn't there before. 

Oliver chuckles and nods. “Did you do your hair?” He asks and she blushes. 

“Not really - My hair-band was just giving me a headache and so I thought I'd just -” she gestures aimlessly at herself. “I found my old curling wand in the bathroom so I just, you know…” she trails off when he catches her eye again, handing her a glass. 

Their fingers touch as she takes it from him and she can't help the sharp inhale of breath she gasps as they do. If Oliver notices, he doesn't say. He just watches her gulp her entire glass down in one go and smiles. Not too long ago she would have laughed and reached for his glass too after finishing her own. She can see in Oliver’s eyes that he’s trying not to hope that she’ll do the same now. 

“You look nice. I like your hair down,” he says.

She knows this, of course she knows this, she knows he likes her hair down because he's told her a million times in a million different ways and all of a sudden she can't find words and her chest feels tight so she just nods and moves around him to sit down on the mat, reaching for the wine bottle and re-filling her glass. She realises then that she's excited. She knows she shouldn't be but she is. So much has happened between them, so much that she knows she's not ready to forgive, but she wonders if it might actually be nice to forget about it for one night. Just one night. Sitting down, she slips off her shoes and crosses one leg over the other, cracking her ankles out of habit now she isn't wearing her heels. She pats the space next to her and smiles, inviting Oliver to sit down. 

And five hours from now when she’s alone again and lying in bed looking back on their evening together, she’ll realise that she saw it all happen before it actually did. She’ll see herself standing in front of the mirror with lightness in her eyes, curling her hair for a date that wasn't a date with a man who she’d never stopped loving. 

Hoping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please leave me a comment! I find it super difficult to continue writing without encouragement from others and so every single comment means the absolute world to me!
> 
> Feel free to leave any prompts or questions for me on Tumblr! My ask is right [HERE](http://wetsuiton.tumblr.com/ask) and I'm on there everyday :)


	7. An Eye for Poetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity make great use of the fridge magnets that they'd originally bought for their kids to play with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my friend Brianna posted [this tweet](https://twitter.com/bettgasm/status/878424367100809216)and I haven't really been able to stop thinking about it since. So this happened. You're welcome, Bri.  
> Thanks to CheerUpLovely here on AO3 for helping me pick names for the kids. I've literally never written a fic where they have kids before and I had no idea how stressful it can be.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this! Please let me know what you think!

Waking up on Sunday morning was always bittersweet for Felicity Smoak. 

It was nice because Oliver always took the kids to the park early so she could sleep in or get the house cleaned or read a book or do some work or whatever she felt like doing. So she was grateful, she really was. 

But it also meant that almost every Sunday she woke up in an empty bed and the house was too quiet and both of those things never made her feel like doing much at all besides waiting for her family to come back. 

She never thought she’d ever be one of those wives and moms who misses their family as soon as they leave her sight, but over the last 3 years, that's exactly what she’d become. And it was especially bad on Sundays. She just didn't have the heart to tell Oliver that she really wished he wouldn't take the kids out so early. They all always came back so happy and excited and she knew they'd had a great time, Oliver included, and she just couldn't bear to take that from them for her own purely selfish reasons. 

Today, however, was different.

She’d woken up and rolled over to Oliver’s side, slipping her arms under his pillow and breathing in his scent, the way she always did when she woke up without him, only this morning, she’d found a note under the pillow. Grabbing her glasses excitedly she’d found that it was written on a piece of notebook paper that had been torn messily from the book and it was slightly sticky with… _something_ , she assumed it was maple syrup or maybe juice from some strawberries, and it said; 

_Morning, mommy!_  
 _We left you a message on the refrigerator! And there's pancakes on the table!_  
 _Love you,_  
 _Emilia & Isla _

_PS Daddy had nothing to do with this_   
_PPS Daddy also said the pancakes would be cold by the time you woke up but Isla cried so we made them anyway. They'll probably still taste good if you microwave them for 3 minutes._   
_PPPS Sorry about the kitchen. We were driving daddy crazy and he had to get us out of the door before he cried. He says he’ll clean it up as soon as he gets back and we’re taking naps._

Felicity chuckled to herself and smiled as she reread the note several times. It was written in Oliver’s handwriting, but she could tell he’d been distracted or in a rush because it was almost intelligible by the end. She could perfectly picture the girls wanting to write it themselves, even Isla who was only 2, and Emilia’s 4 year old handwriting alone would have taken up six pages in the notebook. She knew they'd still be downstairs writing it now if Oliver had given in, like he usually did when they wanted something. Anything. 

She laughed again and got up out of bed, slipping on Oliver’s shirt that he always left for her on the floor by the bed, and a pair of her fluffy socks. Leaving the bed unmade, she headed downstairs. 

*

Oliver was right to have apologised about the kitchen. There were dishes in the sink as well as in the dishwasher that had been left open, there was the same sticky substance that had been on the note all over the counters, there were crayons and markers and superhero action figurines all over the floor and the girl’s pyjamas had been left strewn over the back of the bar stools at the breakfast table. It definitely looked like it was worthy of an apology. 

But she’d definitely seen it look worse. 

Ignoring the mess, she walked over to the fridge, smiling at the plate of pancakes that had been left for her as she passed the table. There were two, covered in maple syrup and raspberries which explained the sticky stuff, with a knife and fork left neatly next to the plate. They were also cold, as Oliver had said, she could see that even without trying them, but she looked forward to putting them in the microwave and eating them all the same. 

Reaching the fridge, she saw that the magnets they had with different words and letters on so that the girls could practice their spelling and writing, had been arranged into what looked like some sort of poem. 

_She is a goddess to me_   
_My sun and my moon_   
_A luscious garden of beauty_   
_My ship through the storm_

Felicity felt her cheeks blush red hot with happiness as she read the poem. The girls had clearly had very minimal input. 

Oliver could be such a huge sap sometimes, and she could never understand fully whether she absolutely loved it or kind of hated it. She’d never been the overly romantic type, even with Oliver let alone before him, and she sometimes still struggled with his affections for her. Of course, deep down she _adored_ hearing him say things like this or doing ridiculously sweet and wonderful things for her, but those things also had the tendency to make her feel inadequate sometimes, like she just couldn't compete or didn't deserve them. And then there were the times where they just made her blush and also cringe a little inside because _come on_ , “a luscious garden of beauty” was a sentence she was sure didn't come from this century or the one before it. 

Grinning to herself at just how painfully over the top Oliver could be sometimes, she bent down and gathered some of the remaining magnets together to add her own sentence onto the end. 

As she thought of something to add, she remembered how ridiculous Oliver had found these magnets when she’d first bought them, telling her that no 3 year old needed to know complex words like dazzling or effervescent or shattering just to name a few that had been in the pack. He’d eaten his own words a few days later when said 3 year old had walked into the living room and asked why the sun was so “resplendent” that morning. Felicity had just smiled smugly to herself at the shocked expression on his face. Later that night he told her how happy he was that it looked like at least one of their kids would grow up to be geniuses like their mom. Felicity hadn't argued with that. 

Finishing up her touches to Oliver’s poem, Felicity stepped back and snapped a picture on her phone, sending it to Oliver in a text before smiling and going over to her pancakes to heat them up for breakfast. 

*

Emilia and Isla were playing happily together in the sandbox at the park when Oliver felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. They'd been out of the house for an hour now and since it was so early, they were practically the only ones there. It was a beautiful Sunday morning, clear blue skies and bright sunshine forecast for the entire day. After the chaos that had ensued in the kitchen just an hour ago, Oliver was glad to be out of the house and far away from all the mess even if he did feel bad about Felicity having to wake up to such disarray. Part of him hoped she’d still be asleep when they got back and he could clean it up himself. 

Glancing down at his phone, his opened the text, smiling widely when he saw it was from Felicity. His grin soon turned into choked laughter when he opened the picture attachment. 

It was an image of his poem on the fridge, except there was an extra line on the bottom so that the poem now read:

_She is a goddess to me_   
_My sun and my moon_   
_A luscious garden of beauty_   
_My ship through the storm_

_and dat butt hot_

Underneath the picture was a simple text message. 

_Your poem was nice, but you forgot something._

He laughed again as he reread the text. It was just so… _Felicity_. She had to be in a very particular mood to not make a joke out of something overly romantic that he’d said or done for her. At first, it had annoyed him. All he wanted was for her to see herself the way he saw her but she always seemed so adamant to lessen it somehow, like it made her uncomfortable. But after talking about it, after hearing how she felt sometimes, like she wasn't worthy of his affection somehow, it had only made him want to do it more. One day she’d see herself how he saw her, he’d make sure of it. And for now, he would have to just take her cute little blushes, dry humour and slightly self deprecating jokes as they came. 

A few seconds later, his phone buzzed again. 

_Come back, please. I miss you guys.  
Love you._

Barely 5 minutes later, Oliver and the girls were in the car on the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please leave me a comment! I find it super difficult to continue writing without encouragement from others and so every single comment means the absolute world to me!  
> Feel free to leave any prompts or questions for me on Tumblr! My ask is right [HERE](http://wetsuiton.tumblr.com/ask) and I'm on there everyday :)


	8. Friday Night with Felicity and Iris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity and Iris bond over married life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so two of my twitter friends were talking about [this](https://twitter.com/pamleaisley/status/912719427161948160) and I got lots of Felicity and Iris feels. This was super fun to write and I may or may not have got emotional several times... 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

“Does it ever worry you that we drink more wine now we’re both married than we ever did before?”

 

“It’s great wine. I could never worry about it.” 

 

“It is. But maybe we shouldn’t drink 3 bottles between us every Friday, you know?”

 

“Well, I like to just tell myself that it’s because we have more to celebrate now.” 

 

“Which technically _is_ true. If you ignore the part where we sometimes drink because we’re having mini freak-outs.” 

 

“Right. Like tonight, you mean.” 

 

“Yeah. I’m sorry for calling you so early this morning, by the way.” 

 

“Felicity, 4am isn’t even morning. It’s the middle of the night.” 

 

“4am will seem totally reasonable when I tell you about the dream I had. Which was absolutely more like a nightmare.” 

 

“Hang on, your glass needs topping up if you’re gonna talk to me about this.”

 

…

 

“Right. I’m ready and your glass is full. Go ahead.” 

 

“Okay so yesterday, I was over at Oliver’s office having lunch and I went to the bathroom and I could hear him and one of his staff having a conversation whilst I was gone about how women end up like their mothers eventually and how you should really think about that before you marry them. And okay, I know it’s probably just one of those things men joke about to hide their underlying commitment issues, but all of a sudden I had this wave of panic that maybe it might be true. So I was standing there in the bathroom listening to Oliver say how much he likes my mom so he isn’t worried and I know I should have been reassured but I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day. Because Oliver doesn’t _know_ my mom, not like I do, you know? When I finally fell asleep last night I just had this dream where every time I looked in the mirror I saw my mom, and whilst physically there’s nothing wrong with that; I mean, my mom is a beautiful woman-“ 

 

“She’s _stunning_.” 

 

“Right, but… I can’t end up like my mom, Iris. Oliver will leave me, I swear. I love her to death and I’d literally take a bullet for her any day or, you know, mystical threats from Damien Dahrk, but I just… I freaked out, okay?” 

 

“Is that why you’re wearing a roll-neck today? Because you know your mom would _never_ wear a roll-neck?” 

 

“Would you believe me if I said yes?” 

 

…

 

“Okay, no. Now I wouldn’t. Because of that ridiculous blush on your cheeks.” 

 

“I was stressing out a lot last night and Oliver-“ 

 

“Honey, I love you and I love Oliver, but I really don’t want to know.” 

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Anyway. Back to the case in point. Which is you panicking about becoming your mom. I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.” 

 

“You don’t _know_ that, though.” 

 

“Obviously. But from what I’ve heard you say about your mom over the last couple of years, I don’t think it’d really be the end of the world for you if you ended up more like her. I mean, I’ve heard you say enough times how strong she is and how you hope you can always be as present in your children’s lives as she was in yours. Those aren’t bad things, Felicity. Plus, you said it yourself, Oliver _loves_ your mom. So I really don’t think you have to worry about anything.” 

 

“You’re right, I know you are, but-“ 

 

“But nothing. One, the entire thing is a myth anyway and is _definitely_ a way for men to justify their commitment issues and two, your mom is super cool anyway.” 

 

“Try living with her for 18 years…” 

 

“Felicity!”

 

“Sorry. _Sorry_. I’m making a big deal out of this, aren’t I?” 

 

“You’re allowed to freak out about it if you want to; I’m not here to tell you you shouldn’t be feeling something. I’m just here to reassure that it’s okay. That you should probably just enjoy right now instead of worrying about what’s going to happen 15 or 20 years in the future.” 

 

“You’re right. You’re so right.” 

 

“I always am.” 

 

“How much does it piss off Barry when you say that?” 

 

“Oh, _a lot_. But he knows it’s true.” 

 

“Oliver too. He doesn’t even deny it anymore. It’s amazing.” 

 

“He’s come so far.” 

 

“ _So far_.”

 

… 

 

“Don’t you ever feel a little bad about how many times we meet up and talk about our husbands and stuff we’re worried about before we talk to them in person about it?” 

 

“Look, if Oliver and Barry can meet up for beers and have dates where they sit and talk about us, then we should be allowed to do the same thing!” 

 

“You’re so right. We deserve this.” 

 

“I sometimes wonder who Oliver is more married to, me or Barry.” 

 

“They’d make a cute couple!” 

 

“God, _imagine_.” 

 

“I can’t. I honestly just can’t.” 

 

“Their marriage would last a week.” 

 

“I wouldn’t even give them that!” 

 

“Us on the other hand…” 

 

“Oh, we’d be _amazing_ together.” 

 

“We could literally take on the entire world.” 

 

“If god forbid things don’t work out between you and Oliver and Barry and I, lets just marry each other.” 

 

“I’ll hold you to that.” 

 

…

 

“Oh my god, I’m so drunk.” 

 

“I feel amazing.” 

 

“Everything feels better nowadays, right? Just like… lighter.” 

 

“You’re such a sap Felicity Smoak-Queen.” 

 

“But I’m right aren’t I, Iris West-Allen?” 

 

“I still get all giggly when people call me that.” 

 

“I sometimes don’t even realise people are talking to me when they call me by my surname now. And then I realise and I’m like _oh right, that’s me_. It’s cool.” 

 

“It’s more than cool.” 

 

“I’m so happy for us.” 

 

“I’m even more happy that somehow, getting married has made the both of us even closer. Because there was a time a while back where I didn’t get to see you as much and I missed you!” 

 

“You’re never gonna have to miss me again, I swear. I’ll always be here, standing on your doorstep with expensive wine whenever you need me.” 

 

“I love you so much.”

 

“Don’t. I’m gonna cry. Wine always makes me cry.” 

 

“It wouldn’t be Friday night with Felicity and Iris if one of us didn’t cry.” 

 

“Friday night with Felicity and Iris sounds like the name of chat show I would definitely like to watch.” 

 

“Well, if ever being CEO doesn’t work out for you, we could talk about that.” 

 

“I’ll hold you to that too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please leave me a comment! I find it super difficult to continue writing without encouragement from others and so every single comment means the absolute world to me!
> 
> Feel free to leave any prompts or questions for me on Tumblr! My ask is right [HERE](http://wetsuiton.tumblr.com/ask) and I'm on there everyday :)


	9. Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Felicity reflects on her life in terms of before and after meeting Oliver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I have no idea what this is. I was just feeling a lot of things. Mostly fluff with some well intention'ed angst thrown in. 
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts once you're done!

“Hey, are you okay?”

Felicity glances up from the same patch of floor she’s been staring absent-mindedly at for the last few minutes to find Oliver standing by the edge of the couch, smiling at her. Her own mouth twitches into a small smile, she can never resist smiling at him, and she nods. “Yeah. Just thinking.” 

Oliver’s face falls slightly at her tone and he moves around the couch to sit down next to her. 

They’ve barely moved from this couch for three days. Since getting back from Central City, both of them have been in a kind of daze. She’s lost count of the number of movies they’ve only half paid attention to, too lost in each other to really care about what is going on on the screen. 

And if she’s honest, she’d rather just look into Oliver’s eyes for two and a half hours over some movie anyway. 

“What are you thinking about?” Oliver asks, taking her hand in his and playing with the ring on her finger. It’s only a temporary ring; a simple, silver band he’d originally bought as a Hanukkah gift for her, one she’s just wearing until they find wedding bands they both like. Felicity’s heart skips every time she sees it anyway, and she’s pretty sure she wants this ring to be _the_ ring and she doesn’t want another. Although, if Oliver keeps taking her hand and playing with it like this, she’s also pretty sure there won’t be a ring left by this time next year because it will have completely worn away.

“Um, a lot. As usual,” Felicity replies, laughing softly. 

Oliver frowns at her and she looks down quickly, knowing that isn’t going to cut it and she’s going to have to talk. She isn’t sure she can find the words she needs to say, though. There are so many of them she needs to say. 

“Do you want to share any of it with me?” Oliver asks her, and even though she isn’t looking at him, all she can see are his soft, blue eyes, shining into hers. 

She does. She _really_ does. But there’s just so much going on inside her head and a lot of it is painful to think about and there will always be a part of her that wants to keep all of that to herself and let it eat away at her, rather than share it with anyone, even the one person she trusts more than anything. She knows with all of her heart that talking to Oliver about it all will make her feel better. She _knows_ that. That’s the way it’s always been with them, from the moment they met. 

“I’m not sure you want to hear all of it,” she says, but even as she says it, she knows it’s not true. 

Oliver probably wants to hear every thought in her head. It’s exasperating and also _really not_ at the same time. And it also just happens to be one of the things that circles back to everything she’s thinking about right now. 

“I always want to hear all of it,” Oliver smiles, squeezing her hand. “I always want to hear whatever you want to tell me.” 

Felicity looks up and meets his eyes then, and she smiles back. “It’s a lot, Oliver. Like, _a lot_. And I just have no idea where to start.” 

“That’s never stopped you before,” Oliver chuckles, but she can tell that he isn’t trying to be funny, not really. He’s just being honest. 

She laughs. “That’s true.” 

Oliver leans back then, letting go of her hand and giving her some space. She watches him for a few long seconds, the sight of him so content and relaxed, completely open and waiting for her making some of the tension she can feel in her body loosen a little. Then she glances down at her lap, automatically reaching for that ring on her finger and twirling it around, an unconscious and nervous habit already forming even though she’s only been wearing it for two days. 

“This is really all just a lot, you know?” She begins, and even before she’s finished her sentence, Oliver is nodding in understanding. “And I don’t want you to think that-“

“Felicity, I’m not going to think anything. I’m just going to listen to you. I promise you don’t need to worry about anything. Just talk to me. Please.” 

Felicity smiles and reaches for his hand then, because she needs to hold onto something and there’s nothing in the world she’d rather hold onto than him. 

“What I said two days ago, in the park with Barry and Iris, about my greatest fear being losing you, I meant it. And I’m not sure if you know exactly what I meant when I said it and I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m scared of _a lot_ of things, Oliver, you have no idea. But none of them come close to the fear of losing you. And I never thought I’d be the kind of girl who was okay admitting that. But when I asked you to marry me and when I told you what I did, I didn’t even think twice about it and I’ve spent the last two days trying to figure out why.

I’ve lost so many people in my life. And I know you get that, because you have too. But I just- I started to just accept that that was how things would always be for me. That people just weren’t meant to stay in my life. As hard as I’ve tried, that has stayed with me and has changed the way I love people. I still love them, of course I love them, I swear I love with everything in me, but every night, or every other night, I come back to the fact that none of them will stay with me. I grew up without my dad, and without my mom a lot of the time though not entirely in the same way, and then my boyfriend killed himself and honestly, forgetting the part where he wasn’t actually dead for a minute, those things were just the start of it, you know? From being a kid I blamed myself, blamed everything on something being _wrong_ with me, on something being so wrong with me that people just didn’t want to love me. And it wasn’t until I became an adult that I realised just how firmly I carried that belief with me for all of these years. 

Then I met you. And through you I met so many other people who I couldn’t live without anymore. Through you I felt like I belonged somewhere, like I was valued and appreciated. But I still didn’t believe that any of it was permanent. I watched you for years as you tried to love other people, as you lost people too just the way I had, as you argued and fought with people and with me, when all we were ever trying to do is make you see how you were always worth fighting for. 

It didn’t really hit me how alike we were for a long time. The things we’ve been through are different and the way we’ve expressed our fears have been different but inherently, we’ve always just believed that we’re better off alone, haven’t we?” 

She pauses and meets Oliver’s eyes, surprised to find his cloudy with tears. He nods softly, agreeing, squeezing her hand. She wants to stop, wants to just go to him and curl up in his lap and stay there for the rest of the night but she fears she’ll never say what she’s trying to say if she stops now. 

“I have so much now, Oliver. You’re the best part of all of it but you’re also only just the beginning of it. I have a family now, a real, proper family with you and William and Thea and John and Lyla and Dinah and Rene and Curtis and all of our friends in Central and National City and wherever in the world Sara and the Legends are right now and when I think about everything, about everyone I have, everyone _we_ have, I feel like my chest is going to explode. Because it’s more than I ever could have dreamed of having. 

But that’s not even it, you know? It’s all good having people who you love and who love you, but what’s the point if you don’t believe any of them are going to stay forever? What’s the point of anything if deep down you’re always just going to believe that people are better off without you?

It’s all- It’s- I’m just-“ 

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m here,” Oliver whispers, squeezing her hand again and it’s only when she feels him do that, that she realises she’s close to tears too. 

“I wasn’t going to cry,” she says, laughing softly. “I swore I wasn’t going to cry.” 

Oliver shushes her and strokes his thumb over the her knuckle, such a simple action, but his skin on hers soothing what feels like every inch of her soul. 

“I wanted this to just be about you. But it’s not. It’s about everyone I love _because_ of you. Which I guess makes it just about you after all, except I’m doing a really bad job of explaining that right now.

Basically, Oliver, I guess what I’m trying to say is that this, _us_ , our lives, all of it… I finally feel like it’s forever. You know, you have this great kid and somehow he tells me that he loves me and wants me in his life and your sister is one of my best friends and the people we work with have become family to me and I have you! God, I have you and we’re _married_ and you’re incredible and you’re everything to me and every single day I wake up and I can’t quite believe that you’re real. And at some point as we stood in that park watching Barry and Iris say their vows three days ago I just- I knew that _all_ of this was real, that _we_ were real, that the entirety of the last six years of our lives had been building up to _that_ realisation.

I never thought I deserved any of this, Oliver. But I think I do now. I really think I do.”

“Felicity, I-“ 

“Don’t say anything, please. I don’t want you to say anything. I don’t need you to say anything. So don’t, please. Just… just be here with me. Always.” 

Oliver sits up then and pulls her towards him, settling her against his chest where she’s wanted to be all night, and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I’m here. Always. I’m always here with you.” 

She kisses him back by pressing her lips to his neck softly. 

“I love you,” she whispers, and she doesn’t even need him to say it back. 

She just knows.

She always will.

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please leave me a comment! 
> 
> Feel free to leave any prompts for me on Tumblr :) My ask is right [HERE](http://wetsuiton.tumblr.com/ask) :)


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